


The Presumption of Innocence.

by clarasptx



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Multi, Possible smut, Prison AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarasptx/pseuds/clarasptx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara Oswald. Imprisoned for the murder of thirteen people. Guilty or Innocent? Who knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Initiation

Buzz.

The metal doors to the B wing swung open, and a tiny brunette figure was escorted in by two burly-looking armed guards. She looked terrified, poor dearie. She must have done something pretty awful to end up in B wing, the wing for murderers. 

‘Yet another newbie.’ I sighed as I shifted positions on my tiny bunk, so that I could no longer see the door. The door which was impeding my freedom, and had been doing so for the last eight years. My life before prison was interesting to say the least. I spent my life travelling the world with my best friend-slash-lover until I decided that the idiot had offended me one too many times, so I murdered him. (He’s fine now though, got himself a new face and everything.) I didn’t quite escape the building before being caught though, hence me being here. 

‘457832 to Reception. That’s 457832 to Reception.’ The harsh tone of the intercom brought me back to reality. It had been all of three days since we’d had a newbie and being in the cell closest to the door meant that I had to give the welcome speech. Fucking wonderful.

I stood up and made my way to the door of my cell and waited for it to open, eyeing up the fresh meat in the process. Small, 5”2 (ish), with extremely large and scared eyes. I was going to have fun with this one. I strolled over to the reception desk and pretended that I didn’t know what was about to happen.

‘Yes?’ I questioned in an extremely fake and innocent voice.

‘You are responsible for the initiation of inmate 658234. Please show them around and then escort them to their cell for lockdown. They’re in cell number 396 with you.’ The officer said as she smirked at me.

‘Fucking hell’ I mumbled as I glared at the newbie. I swear she shrunk three inches on the spot.

‘Lets get going then, kid.’ I grumbled. ‘We have a lot to do in thirty minutes.’

I strode towards the canteen at a pace which was way too fast for her tiny legs. She was practically running to keep up with me. As we made our way to the canteen, I could hear taunting shouts from other inmates.

‘Got yourself some fresh meat, Missy?’ one of them shouted.

‘We don’t take well to fresh meat in here’ another commented.

I could see the kid was practically quaking in her regulation prison boots.

‘Leave her be. She’s mine to torment, not yours.’ I quipped.

We arrived in the B wing canteen and I gave her the regular ‘trays here, cutlery here’ speech. I even took the liberty of explaining who sits where so that she wouldn’t cause too much of a riot. I have done this so many times I might as well be paid to do initiations. 

I set off back to our cell, expecting her to follow me like a puppy. They always do.

My cell leaves little to the imagination. Bleak walls with the odd picture pinned up here and there, a toilet in the corner and a sink beside it. Privacy wasn’t an option. The only real furniture I have is the bunk bed, two wooden chairs and a table which is attached to the wall. Most people would go mad in a place like this.   
I flopped down onto my bunk and picked up a three month old magazine which I had read hundreds of times. The kid, however, was still stood in the doorway. I motioned for her to come inside and she took the tiniest step towards me.

‘Your bunk is the top bunk. I cleared you a shelf.’ I announced from behind my magazine.

‘Thanks.’ She whispered in the tiniest voice imaginable.

‘No problem poppet. You’re stuck with me for a while. What’s your name?’ I asked, trying to make conversation.

‘Clara. Clara Oswald. Inmate number 658234.’ She muttered, obviously still scared.

‘Well Clara, it looks like you and I are going to have to get along.’


	2. Night One.

A few hours later I shifted in my bunk as I heard sniffling from above me. Great. Another crier. I stood up and took the three steps necessary to reach the door of my cell and the light switch. Upon turning the lights on, I noticed Clara shaking and sobbing whilst being curled into the tiniest ball possible. I felt a tug on my heartstrings. Poor thing. She’s probably only here because of the fucked up justice system and is most likely innocent. She looks too fragile to murder anyone.

I tiptoe towards her and stand on my bunk, so our heads are at the same height. I tap her lightly on the shoulder and she flinches, tensing every muscle in her body. I cave to my all-too-human emotions and begin to comfort her. If I want any sleep at all tonight, I better shut her up soon. After a minute or two of me rubbing her back, she slowly unfolds herself and rolls over to face me.

‘Hey, what’s wrong dearie?’ I whisper as she sits up on her bunk and invites me next to her.

‘I just miss home.’ She replies, trying to hold back the tears.

‘First night nerves, huh? I had them too. Everyone does.’ I cooed softly as I scooted further towards her and wrapped my arm around her.

‘Why are you here?’ Clara asked as she embraced the warmth all whilst trying to change the conversation.

‘You first, poppet.’ I replied. I’ll tell her one day. When I feel she’s ready.

‘It’s a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t murder those people… I promise I’m innocent I swear! I swear it on my life!’ she sobbed. Oh lord. Can of worms, opened.

‘I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They assumed it was me who murdered those innocent people and I’ve been locked up since. Passed from pillar to post between custody jails and now eventually here. There’s no way out for me and I’ll never see the outside world again. I’m going to rot and die in here. That’s what they told me.’ She continued in between sobs that shook her entire fragile body.

‘Who exactly told you that?’ I asked, curious as to who I had to beat up this time.

‘It was th-the guards at the county jail.’ She mumbled, trailing off towards the end of the sentence.

I’m not sure whether I want to hear the rest of the details. Poor kid looks like she’s had one hell of a ride so far, and it won’t be any easier from here. She’ll have the trial to deal with on top of the pressures of being in this place. She looked exhausted so I decided to end the game of twenty questions there. I squeezed her shoulder one last time before climbing off her bunk. I walked back over to the door and gave her a soft smile before flicking the lights off, and heading back to bed.

‘Relax, kid. I’ll look after you.’ I stated as I crawled back under the covers.

‘Thanks, Missy.’ She said softly.

I heard her breathing even out after a few minutes and I could finally relax.

I had never cared for anyone in this place before she arrived. Why should I start now? It’s not like I’m going anywhere, mind. Something about Clara caught my attention. She seemed too fragile and scared to be in a place like this. Could she really be innocent? I’m not sure. What I do know, however, is that someone as breathtakingly beautiful as her, shouldn’t have been roomed with me. 

God damn you, emotions.


	3. Day One

I cross another day off the calendar on the wall. March 17th. I have officially been in here 8 years.

I remember my first day as if it were yesterday. The utter fear I felt as I stepped through those metal doors for the first time is something that will never be forgotten. The prison is a lot worse nowadays than it was when I first arrived. Either my perception of everything has changed, or the fog that hazed my first few months is distorting my memories.  
Eight long years without him. Eight long years without the love of my life. I wonder what he looks like. I never saw him after he regenerated. He probably looks older than he did last time. I’m guessing he went for the magician look. He always loved showing off his tricks. Especially in the bedroom.

I would give anything to be able to see him again. He’s made no effort to contact me in the last 8 years. Not even a single card on my birthday. It doesn’t matter though, not really. I never meant as much to him as he means to me. I have to learn to be okay with that.  
I probably never will see him again. My trial has been postponed because they can’t prove me innocent, but they can’t prove me guilty. All they have is eyewitness accounts. No body, obviously, so I’m stuck here until they find new evidence. Six years I have been waiting for new evidence to appear. It looks like I’ll be waiting a hell of a lot longer.

I am brought out of my thoughts by a sniffling noise behind me. I turn around to be greeted by the sight of a dishevelled Clara. She looks as if she hasn’t slept much and has been crying all night.

‘Morning, dearie. Welcome to reality.’ I say, giving her my best fake smile.

‘Yeah. Morning.’ She replies, obviously not up for conversation. 

‘Just a heads up, it doesn’t get any easier being in here. Especially if they can’t prove you innocent. Just stay out of the way and for heaven’s sakes don’t get into any fights.’ I advise, as I walk over to the sink to begin brushing my teeth. She climbs down off of her bunk and her stomach rumbles loudly.

‘Breakfast is in fifteen minutes, get ready to go.’ I say, as I brush my hair and scrape it back into a ponytail.

She stands and looks at me nervously, and then looks at the toilet round the corner.

‘Seriously? Get over it, we’ve got a hell of a long time together in here.’ I quip. I know that I’m going to get fed up with her really soon if she carries on moping like this.

The bell rings and our cell door opens and we begin to walk to breakfast. I can sense Clara getting closer and closer to me the further we walk away from our cell. Poor thing must be petrified. The first few days in prison are always terrifying. I should know. I’ve been in plenty of prisons in my time.

‘How’s the pet holding up, Missy?’ A prisoner shouts. I turn my head and meet eyes with none other than Rose Tyler. The prisons most notorious killer.

‘The pet is fine.’ Clara growls. The other prisoners, including Rose begin to laugh and stare at Clara. Some whisper things to each other, and some shout them out loud. I glare at most of them before turning back to Clara.

Before I can open my mouth to stop her, Clara is launching herself at Rose, grabbing her hair and shoving her against a wall. Damn, she’s hot. Rose begins to fight back and I step away as the two of them wrestle on the floor. A crowd gathers and begins to chant for Rose to win. 

Four armed officers rush over and separate the girls. Rose’s face is bloody, her lip is bust and she’s sure to have a black eye later. Who knew such a tiny being could do that much damage. I didn’t get a look in at Clara before she was dragged away to solitary. 

I was under the impression that she couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone murder anyone. From that display, I’m starting to think she’s not so innocent after all.


End file.
